


New Beginning

by EasyTiga



Series: Wincest/J2 One shots [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, short but sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23548450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EasyTiga/pseuds/EasyTiga
Summary: Sam can't watch Dean die anymore. A hundred different ways were enough for a lifetime.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Wincest/J2 One shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686691
Comments: 3
Kudos: 76





	New Beginning

The final straw for Sam was watching Dean die a number of different ways. Most of them violent. Some of them intended to be humorous. Sam didn’t laugh at any of them. Only increased his efforts to force the Grand Piano up enough to drag Dean’s crushed corpse out from underneath it. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb helped with that. If they hadn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered. Sam would have summoned every ounce of strength that was left in his body to get to Dean again.

The Trickster had its fun. Sam was completely _done_ with all of it. He was done with hunting. He was done with crappy motel rooms. He was done with the neverending fear that he would look over one day, and see an empty motel bed, lacking scrunched up sheets and light snoring. Missing the tell-tale signs of a gun-toting, rock music-loving, low-key Swayze idolizing gem of a person that never failed to take up space in every corner of his mind. That wasn’t something Sam was willing to let go of.

Dean’s deal took some work. A lot of work. Hard, gruelling, painful work. But Sam did it. He did it because it was the only thing that mattered. His motivation hid behind false grins and put-upon bravado, when Sam could see clear as day, beneath the surface, Dean was _terrified_. Whenever he didn’t have his guard up, all Sam needed was that one second to take in the concealed perpetual fear littered across Dean’s whole frame. Barely a second would pass before it switched to _no regrets_ when their eyes would land on each other.

It made Sam sick. Sick and angry. Angry with Dean for choosing to do something so _stupid_ and _selfish_. Angry with himself for knowing that he would have done the same thing in a heartbeat. He would never have regretted saving Dean, of course. That’s why he sympathised. It didn’t stop him from burning up inside, and he would never fully blame Dean for his decision. Stupid as it was.

Sam jumped through hoops to save Dean, and he still sensed a lingering amount of resentment toward him for it, even though he managed to secure the tearing up of Dean’s contract without getting one of his own. Sam knew that it was the risk in the first place that had Dean’s briefs in a wad. He didn’t care. Sam would do it again in a heartbeat.

They should never have made the deal with Dean in the first place. If they hadn’t, they would all be alive.

The conversation went something like…

“We’re out,” Sam said, packing his duffel.

Dean’s gun clicked on the nightstand. “Out of what?”‌

“You know what.”‌

“No, I‌ really don’t, Sam. Why don’t you enlighten me?” Dean replied, jacket hitting the floor.

Sam rounded on him, face soft, “I‌ can’t do this anymore.” His eyes were wide, his muscles were so tense. “We killed the Demon. We saved people. We had some good times; that’s enough. We’re out.”

Dean frowned, lips twitching. “So what, you think we can just leave? Just like that, huh? What about the next person who dies because we’re not there to save them–”

“I don’t care,”‌ Sam says quietly, turning his face away.

“You don’t mean that,”‌ Dean shot back with conviction, moving closer to him. “Sammy… Tell me you don’t mean that crap.‌”

“It’s not that I‌ don’t… I‌ just… Compared to you, they don’t matter to me.”‌

Dean swallowed, throat bobbing. Sam tracked it, followed suit.

“Sam, is this about the… The, uh, demon–”

“No,” Sam cut him off sternly. “It has nothing to do with demon blood. Or Ruby. I kicked the stuff. You were there, remember?”

A stab of guilt glimmers in Dean’s eyes, voice tight. “You know I never…”

“I know,”‌ Sam agreed, misty. Sometimes he thought he could hear Dean’s internal anguish when he was stood outside listening to him scream and beg, wailing and thrashing. “You did the right thing.”

Dean nodded, taking a step back.

“I‌ can’t leave the job, Sammy…. I don’t know how.”

“I’ll show you how,”‌ Sam replied, latching onto the vague response.‌ He tried not to sound too hopeful. “Please, Dean… You watched me die once. How did that feel?”

The pain and heartache that rocked Dean’s frame made Sam want to throw up everything he had eaten that day.

“Well, you know me. I’m a sucker for the classics. Sleeping Beauty was my guilty pleasure. You had the hair and everything.”‌

There was a grin on his face. Fake, tight; so forced it was almost unbearable to watch.

“ _Dean_ ,”‌ Sam tried again.

Dean retreated, arms folding, legs stiff.‌ “Horrible. All right? Worst day of my life.”‌

“Exactly. And I watched you die over a hundred times. If I’m gonna watch you die again, it’s gonna be because of your cholesterol.”‌

“Just ‘cause you choose to eat whatever comes out of the Green Giants ass, doesn’t mean I‌ should have to.”

Sam’s nose scrunched at the image.

“You could do with more vegetables, but that’s not what this is about,” Sam informed him, fiddling with a shirt between his fingers.

“Sam… Dude, I don’t _know_ anything else.”‌

It wasn’t a no. Hope sparked in Sam’s chest.

“Yes you do. You’ve been fixing the Impala _forever–”_

“I can’t _cheat_ on my Baby,” Dean intoned, lips set. He caught the look.‌ “Wait… You wanna leave her _behind_?” Rage took over, Sam dropped the shirt, held up his hands placatingly.

He didn’t want to leave her any more than Dean did. It was the right thing to do. She was far too symbolic of their life on the road–the life that Sam was trying to encourage Dean to get away from. Having her around would increase the likelihood of Dean taking off one night and never coming back.

Sam couldn’t let that happen.

“Not behind. In storage,”‌ Sam told him, not taking his eyes off Dean’s stiff shoulders.

“What? You think I’d turn tail and ride off into the sunset? Leave you behind?” Dean breathed in deep, nostrils flaring. “Screw this.”

The door slammed shut. Anger followed it. Rooted, disbelieving. Sam understood that Dean was offended that he would entertain the idea that he would ever be the one to leave him.

_You think I’m gonna leave you behind like you left me?‌_

He didn’t say the words. Dean didn’t need to. Sam heard them in his head more than he would like to admit. Leaving Dean was never an easy thing to do. It hurt, cut him to the core. Chills surged through him down to the bone on those nights where he never felt more alone.

Alone without Dean; without the other half to his heart.

Hours later, Dean returned, body tense the moment he passed the threshold. Sam waited on the end of the bed, frame slumping from exhaustion.

“I’m an all-in kind of guy, Sam,” Dean reminded him from the door, kicking it shut. “If I commit to something, I’m seeing it through to the end. Giving up on the job would be part of that.”

“Does that mean….”

A hand patted his shoulder, Sam leant into it. “It’s where you’ll be, right?” A smile. It lacked confidence. Like he didn’t believe Sam would be happy with him being there with him.

Stupid idiot.

Sam stood, enveloped Dean in his arms, tucked into the side of his neck. Couldn’t help inhaling his scent. He ignored the weak protest. “I’ll show you there’s something else out there. Something better. I‌ promise.”

Arms hug him back, hands rubbing along his spine.‌

“Yeah, well… You’ll want me outta your hair when you get a girlfriend.”‌

That was never part of the plan.


End file.
